A Demon in White Pine Bay
by The Red One - Stevie Rae
Summary: The Winchester brothers visit the Bates Motel while tackling a case in White Pine Bay. Rated T because I ship Soul Bates, although there won't be anything graphic! I'm also not really following canon in terms of who's dead/who's alive.
1. Prologue

He finally had a chance to relax for a while. This vampire bullshit was starting to get old, but hey, somebody had to do it. He plopped down onto the ratty old couch of the cheap motel room, an unopened beer in one hand and a bottle opener in the other. Another case down. Who knew how many more lying ahead. He popped the cap off of his beer, took a long swig, and booted up his laptop to look for another case. He may be tired, but helping people was the family business.

Just then, he heard the door behind him open and he leapt to his feet, instantly prepared for anything.

"Oh, Sammy," he sighed, relieved to see his brother standing in the doorway. "It's you."

"Hey, Dean."

"What's wrong? Were they out of pie?"

"No," Sam answered, setting the plastic convenience store bag down on the couch. "But I think I found a case."

Dean hardly seemed to hear his brother as he started rummaging through the bag of junk food. "Where's the pie?"

"What pie?"

"You know, the pie. That you went to get. That you said they had. Where is it?"

"I didn't get any pie."

"Didn't get any pie? Sammy, what's wrong with you?"

"I saw the news on the television screen and thought I saw something that looked like a case so I came straight back here."

"Sammy…"

"No, Dean. This looks like demonic activity. We've got to get over there."

"Fine," Dean retorted. "But I'm gonna be in charge of snacks from now on." Sam started throwing the few things he had into a bag to load into the Impala. "Where are we going, anyway?" Dean asked.

"Oregon."

"Oregon?" Dean sighed, thinking how long the drive would be from where they were in Missouri. "Where in Oregon?"

"A little town called White Pine Bay."


	2. Chapter 1

"For the last time, Sammy, I am not the one who's gonna have to change!" Dean was grateful they were finally on the last leg of the journey so he wouldn't have to tolerate this much longer. Just a few more miles to go. He was hungry, he was tired, and most of all he was annoyed that he and his brother had accidentally worn identical flannels. They were matching and it looked really stupid.

"Hey," Sam said, "it's not my fault you picked the same shirt as me."

"Oh, don't start that again!" Dean threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Hands on the wheel!"

"I know how to drive!"

"Then focus!" Sam sighed and slouched into his seat. Sometimes these long drives really took their toll on the brothers. If Dean could only get over his fear of flying, travel would be so much easier. Of course, then they wouldn't have his precious baby, and Dean wouldn't go for that either.

"I'm about ready to call it a night, Sam."

"It's not much farther. Just keep going."

Dean was silent.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive."

"No."

"Dean…"

"You're not driving."

"But…"

Dean reached over and turned the radio up. Sam took the signal and shut his mouth. After a brief silence, Dean said, "You're still gonna change your shirt." Sam groaned and started to reply, but Dean cut him off. "No. I'm driving. So you're gonna reach into your back and switch your shirt before we get to White Oak Marsh or whatever…"

"White Pine Bay."

"Right, White Pine Bay. That's what I said. You're gonna change, 'cause if you don't, we're gonna look real stupid when we check into wherever we're staying. And I'm pulling into the first motel I see, 'cause I'm beat."

Not seeing any other way this situation could pan out, Sam finally decided to do as he was told. He grabbed a shirt out of the small bag on the backseat, changed it with the one he was wearing, and threw the matching one in the back.

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't make a mess!"

"I'll get it when we get there."

"Sam. The Impala."

"Don't argue with me. I did what you asked. Just focus on the road and… wait…"

"Is that a motel sign up there?"

"I think so…" Sam rolled his window down and stuck his head out to get a better look. They got a little closer, and he could just make out the neon blue letters. "Yes. It looks like it says 'BATES MOTEL.' And I think there's a vacancy."

As they approached the long building, and saw that the "NO" was, in fact, unlit, Dean pulled in and brought the Impala to a stop near the door on the far end marked "OFFICE."

The brothers got out of the car and peered into the office. No one was here.

"Dammit!" Dean hissed. "I'm tired, and I don't…"

"Relax. The manager's probably around here somewhere."

Unbeknownst to the brothers, a light had just flicked on in the house that loomed atop the hill behind the motel.

The Winchesters looked around unsuccessfully for any sign of human activity. Sam even wandered down the walkway the length of a few rooms, but there didn't appear to be anyone around.

"No one?" Dean asked.

"No one," Sam confirmed.

"Should we move on then?"

"I don't know," Sam sighed, exhausted as well from the long trip. "It looks like we may have to."

The brothers started to move back toward the Impala, giving up. At that moment, they heard footsteps approaching and whirled around. Years of hunting had taught them that they needed to be ready for anything.

"Hello there." A figure rounded the corner. "Can I help you?"


	3. Chapter 2

As the figure stepped into the light, the Winchesters could see that it was just a young boy in his late teens. "I'm Norman. Norman Bates. I run the motel with my mother."

The brothers took a breath, relieved that there was nothing to be worried about.

Dean stepped forward to meet Norman. "You, uh, got any rooms available for the next few nights?"

"We do. Actually, you can take any room you like," Norman shrugged. "Come on into the office so I can get your information."

The Winchesters followed Norman into the office. As Norman rummaged around behind the counter looking for the guestbook, Dean asked, "So, it's you and your mom, huh?"

"We're very close."

"That's nice."

Norman found the guestbook and opened it up on the counter. "If you could just put your information in here. And I'll need to see an ID and credit card."

Sam and Dean each selected one of their many fake IDs and handed them to Norman, checking first to make sure which names were on them so that they would know what to write in the guestbook.

"Is it ok if we pay with cash?" Sam asked.

"Sure! How long will you be staying with us?"

"It's hard to say," Dean answered.

"We're here for work," Sam explained.

"What do you guys do?"

"Uh…" Dean hesitated, glancing at Sam. "We, uh, fix stuff."

"So…"

"Mechanics," Sam cut in quickly.

"Right, mechanics."

"Oh." Norman didn't seem suspicious.

Sam took some cash out of his wallet. "Will this at least cover us for a few nights?"

"Yeah, this'll be fine," Norman said, accepting the cash. "We'll be around to make sure you have fresh towels and everything."

"Great," Sam said.

"Did you have any room requests?"

"Wherever is fine," Dean answered.

Norman turned around and grabbed two keys off of the wall behind him. "I'll put you in rooms three and four. If you need anything before the office opens tomorrow, I'll be up in the house. Oh, and the password for the wifi is MOTHER, all caps."

"Alright, thanks Norman," Dean said as he and Sam took their respective room keys.

"No problem. Good night!"

As Norman began to lock up the office for the night, the Winchesters headed to their rooms. Dean took three and Sam took four. When he got his stuff settled, Dean headed next door to Sam's room to make a plan for the next day.

"So, the kid seemed nice."

"Yeah, he did," Sam hardly looked up.

"Can we make a plan for tomorrow?"

"I don't really know what else there is to go over. Looks like some pretty standard signs of demonic activity."

"You know it's never that simple, Sammy."

"I don't know Dean. This one might be."

"Alright. Well, I'm gonna get some rest. Standard demon case or not, we're gonna need to be ready to go tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 3

After pulling in to the White Pine Bay Police Department, Sam and Dean stepped out of the Impala and slammed the doors shut. Dean adjusted his suit, took a breath, glanced at Sam, and then led the way into the office.

Upon entering the lobby, the Winchesters encountered a bored-looking receptionist who didn't even look up from her iPhone when they walked up to the window.

Dean cleared his throat in attempt to get her attention. The receptionist merely grunted in response. "I'm Agent Tyler, this is Agent Perry. FBI." The girl finally looked up, slightly mortified, and the brothers flashed their fake badges.

"We'd like to speak to your sheriff," Sam said. As he spoke, a door in the back opened and a slim, dark-haired man stepped through. Seeing their badges, he froze. A look of mixed terror and worry flashed across his face almost instantaneously, and then he quickly squared his shoulders to regain his composure, assuming an air of obvious authority.

"What in the hell are you doing?" he asked the receptionist.

"I…" she fumbled.

"Let them in!" The girl pressed a button and a door on the brothers' left popped open. They went through and, after a brief glare at the distracted receptionist, met the dark-haired man in the back. He offered a hand to the "agents."

"I'm Sheriff Alex Romero," the man said as first Sam, and then Dean shook his hand. "What can I do for you fellas?"

"We're Agents Tyler and Perry, FBI," Dean said.

"If we may," Sam gestured toward the door he assumed led to Romero's office.

The sheriff nodded and opened the door. "Please," he said, motioning for them to go inside. The brothers sat down in the two chairs opposite the desk. Romero shut the door, and then took his seat.

"We're here on a…um…" Sam started.

"Routine check," Dean finished.

"That's right. Have you, um, noticed anything out of the ordinary lately?"

"Like?"

Sam looked to Dean, uncertain if the cocky sheriff was buying their story.

"Like," Dean took over, "I don't know, any unexplained deaths? Or an outbreak of anything abnormal, like, um, sulfur, for example?"

"No, I can't say that I have," Romero answered, glancing back and forth between the brothers, scrutinizing them.

"Nothing?" Dean asked again.

"I mean, there have been a couple of potential homicides, but it's nothing I can't handle." It was then that Sam noticed that it wasn't that the sheriff didn't buy his and Dean's story; it was that he knew something. He glanced over at his brother. Dean had picked up on it, too.

"No," Dean smiled, making one last effort to see if there was any chance at getting the stubborn sheriff to talk, "sulfur? Or anything?"

Romero pursed his lips and shook his head. "No."

Dean waited for a moment, nodding once, slowly. "I see. Well, thank you for your cooperation."

* * *

"That guy was not cooperating," Dean grumbled as soon as he and Sam were out of the police station.

"Well, what are we supposed to do about it?" Sam retorted.

"Figure it out on our own."

"As usual."

The brothers reached the Impala, took a breath, and climbed in.

"So, what now?" Sam asked.

"Back to the motel, I guess. Regroup, do some research."

* * *

Romero sighed and slumped back into his chair after the feds left, anxiously fiddling with a pen. They knew something. But how could two feds possibly know that demons were real? They certainly knew the signs. But Romero didn't fully believe it himself. He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. There was definitely something going on in White Pine Bay; something more than usual. But he was the boss in this town, and he wasn't about to let anybody come into his town and tell him how to handle things. Especially not some feds. He slammed the pen down in frustration. He had to get to the bottom of this before it attracted any more attention.


End file.
